The Great Kakariko Culinary School
by lemoncelloismyname
Summary: In between adventures, Link often finds himself returning to the Sheikah village, or - more specifically - the cooking pot nestled in its corner. Sometimes, he decides, happiness is homemade. (Or, in which Link remembers, Koko cooks, and Cottla knows a buisness oppertunity when she sees one.)


**I have returned from the great blue yonder. Do not ask me what I have seen there, for my experiences have been horrors beyond your wildest imagination. (Fuckin' ucas, man.)**

 **Anyway, this is a thing now, and it contains botw spoilers, specifically for most Kakariko side quests.**

 **Also I lowkey forgot how to insert section breaks no hate pluxxxxxx.**

.

 **one**

"Fuck."

The curse slipped out before he could stop it, leaping from his lips to be gently carried out over the rooftops of Kakariko Village by the soft late-afternoon breeze. Thankfully there was no one close enough to hear him; that girl who had been scrubbing the decking earlier seemed to have vanished into thin air. He was all alone out here, on the wooden platform outside Impa's house, with the Sheikah Master's words ringing his his ears like the harsh clanging of a bell.

 _A hundred years ago, the Kingdom of Hyrule was destroyed._

The woman's eyes had clouded over, creased at their sides. Her face was lined with age, and it was strange to think that she was only a few years older than him. They had been friends once, or aqaintances at least.

 _After you fell, Princess Zelda's final wish was to place you in a sacred chamber. And then, all alone, she went to face Ganon._

Link thought of the shadow on the horizon, of the purple-black beast that had swarmed it, of the lightning and the shadows and the bleeding moon. He frowned. _Fuck._

His stomach growled, and Link looked down at it, grateful for the distraction. That's right, he thought, he hadn't eaten since setting out from Dueling Peaks stable that morning, and the Sun was now beginning to dip behind the strange rock formations that surrounded the village. He'd seen a cooking pot on his journey in, the fire underneath it already lit. He could roast the Hyrule bass he'd caught earlier in some butter, and make a fish skewer.

He set off down the steps and quickly reached his destination, slinging his pack off his shoulder and flopping to the ground. The two fish were hanging from the top, their gross, beady eyes watching him with an almost accusatory glare. Link thought little of it as he chopped their heads off, then chucked a large wad of butter in the pot to melt.

He could still hear Impa's words as they passed her lips, tone grave, eyes tired. _You are Princess Zelda's only hope,_ she had said. _And Hyrule's, as well._ He remembered the horror in her eyes when she had realised he'd lost his memory, although she had pushed that away quickly. Link wasn't so sure in himself. His muscles were weak and tired from a hundred years of nothingness, and his brain was foggy. Impa clearly had faith in him - as had the dead King - but he had failed before, hadn't he?

He thought of the Princess, all alone in Hyrule Castle with that thing, and he felt an odd yet familiar pang in his chest.

 _You cannot turn back now._

Impa was the same age as him. Impa who was a Sheikah. He was Hylian, and if he hadn't been in that Shrine he'd be long dead by now, just like everyone else he'd ever known and couldn't remember, and, and-

He forced himself to breath, slowly, focusing in on the hunger clawing at his stomach. In between grand declarations of his destiny by various people he couldn't remember at all, it was easiest to focus on taking things one step at a time. Right now he was going to eat, then he was going to sleep - and in a bed too, thank the Goddesses - and then he would worry about tomorrow when it had arrived. For the moment, it was easier to hold onto what he did know; his name was Link, he could fight, and he could cook.

Cooking had come naturally indeed. In his hands the knife seemed to move on its own accord, descaling the firsh with a casual yet expert ease. Knowledge of what went with what, of how to fry an egg and skin a rabbit and slice vegetables all seemed to be there in his head - stored neatly away like books in a library - just as his knowledge of combat was.

The goat's butter in the pot had finally melted, and just on time, too. He placed the descaled fish in, gently, and sat back and crossed his legs to wait. It was encouraging, at least, to know that parts of his former self still remained, and he guarded them closely, holding on tight. The smell of the fish and the butter was familiar, as were so many things, like he was trying to make out the face of someone he knew well, only the fog that was surrounding him was far too dense to see through.

Ah well. There was nothing he could do, except take each day as it came.

As he sat and watched the fish brown, he found himself humming along to a song he neither knew or remembered, and he stopped. Just like that, the melody instantly left him, slipping through his fingers like water escaping through a cracks in a jar. It was-

"Hey!"

Link looked up.

A tiny Sheikah girl was staring at him across the cooking pot. He thought he'd seen her earlier, running around the village. Her arms were wrapped around a large sack - nearly the same size as her - out of which was poking the lid of a mik jar and a lump of rock salt.

He looked down at the fish again, now brown and crispy, and his stomach growled. "I'm nearly done here if you need the pot next."

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed the girl. "I'm Koko, and I'm cooking food for me and my sister. Tonight's dinner is veggie cream soup. It's super nourishing and fortifying! Well, that's what they say, anyhow. It must be true."

Link nodded, only half listening as he focused on skewering the fish and rinsing out the pot. "It's all yours," he said, sitting back to finally dig into his dinner. It was delicious, thick and buttery, and it tasted like like nights spent under the stars, sword on his lap, watching the shadows that surrounded their camp...

He blinked, and then the fish was just fish again.

The girl - Koko - grinned at him, then dumped her back on the ground and began poking through it. She took the milk, opened it, then poured it into the pot, then returned to her bag. Link then watched as the girl's expression slid into one of pure horror. "OH NO! Koko is all out of swift carrots! But... I promised to make Cottla some veggie cream soup..."

She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Link swallowed his mouthful of fish. "How many do you need?"

Koko sniffed. "Just one."

Just one. Earlier, a Sheikah man had given him a swift carrot, claiming that it had been the source of the ancient hero's strength a hundred years ago. Link highly doubted that, although he had taken the carrot anyway. Now, he reached into his pack. He'd have to find another snack for his horse later. "Here," he said, and he held the carrot out for Koko.

The girl's yes widened. "Is that... a swift carrot?! Thank you so much! SO very much! Now I can make dinner for Cottla!"

Link finished his fish skewer and set it down. "Would you like me to cut if for you?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, please!"

Like with descaling the the fish, Link found that there was a natural ease to slicing vegetables, and he finished chopping the carrot in a matter of seconds. Koko's eyes were wide with wonder as se eatched him, and when he dumped the vegtable into tye cooking pot she said, "How did you do that so quickly?!"

Link shrugged. "Practice," he said. His guess was as good as hers.

Koko produced a spoon, and set about stirring the soup. "Now we need to let it simmer," she told him. "This is Cottla's favourite, she's gonna be so happy when she sees this!" She frowned. "Oh! I forgot to add the salt!"

In Link's head, a woman spoke. Salt is really important in cooking, it said. It adds flavour and makes yor food last longer. Just be careful not to add too much, because then it won't taste very nice. There was a bubbling pot in front of him, and the small fire danced on stone walls that sheltered them from the howling wind outside.

"Koko!" said a child, and Link started, yanked abruptly from his train of thought as the memory slid away. It was another Sheikah girl, one who looked very similar to Koko, if a little younger. She looked annoyed, her face childishly scrunched up into an over-exaggerated pout.

Koko sighed. "Cottla!" she snapped. "I've told you that I can't play right now! I have to make our dinner!"

The little girl - Cottla - folded her arms and huffed loudly. "You're so boring now, you never play with me anymore! Mommy can make dinner when she gets home."

Koko bit her lip, and her face curled into a frustrated glare, brow furrowed, bottom lip sticking out. She looked as if she was about to scream at her sister, something that Link firmly did not want to be in the middle of.

He turned nto the younger girl. "I'll play with you, if you want," he offered.

Cottla's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Link nodded. "Really. What are playing?"

"We're playing tag!" She darted forwards and hit him on the shoulder. "You're it!" she declared, before she ran off, cackling.

For the rest of the evening, Link chased the young Sheikah around the village while her older sister sat beside the simmering pot. By the time Koko called them over to announce that the soup was done, Link's hair had come loose of its tie and his face was flushed with laughter. He hadn't felt this young since...

Since he could remember. It was nice.

Koko handed her sister a bowl of the soup, and then handed a second one to Link. "Are you sure?" he asked her, even as he inhaled the warm scent of vegetables and cream. It smelt, and looked, delicious.

"It's Koko's treat," she said. "You helped make it. I'm practising so I can be a great chef, just like Mother!" And so Link took the bowl, and sat down to eat his dinner with the two Sheikah children.

It occured to him, as he listen to the excited chatter of the two girls, that this was the first time he'd ever eaten a meal in the company of other people. It was a strange thought, one that tugged on the emptiness he felt in his gut, but he brushed it off. Nothing he could do.

Night was falling over Kakariko village, and with it came a strange peace, as if the village itself was slowly falling asleep. He liked it here, he decided then, even if it reminded him of what he was missing, what he had lost. The people was nice, and the food was just as good.

Cottla looked up at him. "Thank you for playing with me, mister," she said, eyes sparkling. She reached into her pocket and drew out a clump of rock salt, offering it up to him with a grin. "Here!"

He blinked, then took the salt. He had no shortage of it himself, but he couldn't reject the girl's offer. "Thank you. Where did you get this?"

Cottla giggled. "That's a secret!"

Link decided not to press the issue further.

Koko leaned forward and stirred the pot. Some of the soup still remained in it, although she had put the fire out underneath. "It's for Father," she explained, when she saw him looking. "He works really hard all the time. He's one of Lady Impa's guards!"

Link glanced over and, sure enough, one of the guards he had spoken to earlier still stood there. He wasn't looking their way, instead seemingly lost in thought, staring off at some point in the distance.

Cottla had, up until this point, been enthusiastically engaged in trying to eat as much soup as she could as fast as was physically possible, but she had clearly still been listening. "We need to save some for Mommy too, Koko," she piped up.

Koko's face hardened slightly, and she sighed. "Yes, and some for Mother too," she echoed, although her heart didn't seem to be in it.

Link stayed silent, and didn't ask either girl where their mother was. He finished his soup, and when Koko offered him seconds he smiled and nodded at her.

The next morning, the two girls waved him off as he left - setting out out Hateno Village - now armed with Impa's vague command to seek out her sister, as well as a flask of leftover soup.

.

 **two**

The next time Link visited Kakariko, having returned to show Impa the repaired Sheikah Slate, he once again found Koko standing over the cookpot with a profound expression of deep thought curled in her childish face. She was even stroking her chin! He smiled to himself slightly, and approached her.

"What are you cooking tonight, Koko?"

She jumped when she saw him. "Oh! You're back very quickly. Did you find Lady Impa's sister alright?" The frown on her face returned. "I haven't decided what to make yet..."

Link had found Purah alright, and had warped back here straight from the lab. His stomach seemed to be doing flips in his gut, and his head was still spinning slightly. Perhaps it was best to take a break before teleporting back to Kakriko. "Not soup again?" he asked, thinking of the delicious meal whose leftovers had done him for days afterwards.

Koko looked horrified. "I can't make soup again! Mother would never make the same thing twice in a row."

It had been over a week since he had left here last time, but he decided against arguing with her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Hot buttered apple sounds good! Mother used to make it all the time, and Cottla loves it too!" She paused, before muttering, "Let's see... The ingredients are... some apples and... goat butter? Yeah, I think so." She looked up at him and smiled. "Do you want to help?"

"Alright." Link sat down beside the pot and crossed his legs. The wood underneath was stacked in a neat pyramid, unlit, a small pile of kindling tucked around the edge. "We'll need to start the fire first, won't we?"

Koko nodded, eyes darting about. "Usually there's a torch somewhere, but I can't see it today."

"That's fine," said Link. He reached into the small pouch on his belt and pulled out his scratched piece of flint, worn from repeated batterings as he used it to start small campfires when he was alone in the wilderness.

"What's that?" Koko asked, scrunching up her nose and sqiunting at the small fragment of mineral.

"Watch," Link said, and he drew his small hunting knife out of his belt. In a movement that still felt strange and unfamiliar, he flicked his wrist and struck the flat of the blade against the flint, and tiny blue sparks sprung up like fireworks. Like with so many other things, his body remembered, even if his mind did not.

On of the sparks landed on the kindling pile, and when the dried grass and wood scrapings went up in a miniture bonfire, Koko gasped. "How did you do that!?"

I have no idea at all, Link didn't say. He shrugged. "Magic." And then, glancing over to check that Dorian wasn't watching - no, the man seemed as preoccupied as ever, staring off into space - he handed Koko the knife and the flint. "Here, you have a go." The ground was damp enough here that, even if the girl managed to create a spark, it was unlikely that it would burn the entire village down.

Probably.

The fire before them crackled and spread, and Link watched it, listening to the wind in the trees and the irritated mumblings of Koko as the blade bounced uselessly off the stone. Soon, the pot would be warm enough to cook with.

Koko huffed as the knife blade slipped against the flint yet again. "Look," Link said. "Give it here." He took the blade and the stone off her again. "You have to hold it so that the sharp edge of the knife scrapes against the flint before the flat side drags over." And he demonstrated again.

Koko watched closely, brow furrowed in concentration "Okay," she said, and she took the knife and flint back again. "Like this?"

This time, a single golden spark leapt from the blade and into the air, and Koko laughed in delight. "I did it!" She immediately returned to attempting the trick again, and he watched on, smiling.

"Linkkkkkkkk!" It was Cottla, arms thrown up in the air, eyes bright, half running and half skipping towards them. "You're back! Did you kill any monsters? What's for dinner?"

"I did," he confirmed. "And hot buttered apple, I think."

Cottla's face lit up. "Yay! I love Mommy's hot buttered apple!" She looked at her sister, who was still now huddled over the flint, practicing her recent achievement with her proud grin still splitting her face. "What's Koko doing?"

"I'm making magic sparks! Look, Cottla!" And Koko, with much gusto and enthusiasm, dramatically swiped the blade againt the flint and caused a flurry of orange sparks to burst out. Link swore, and just managed to pull Cottla backwards in time for her to escape the wide arc of the knife. His eyes flickered over to Dorian, who still wasn't watching, thank the Goddesses. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea.

Cottla laughed in delight. "I wanna go!" she cried, grinning from ear to ear.

 _Uh, nope._

Link swooped in to swiftly snatch the blade away from Koko before it could fall into the hands of her hyper little sister. "Maybe another time," he told Cottla, whose expression had slid from a joyous one to a crestfallen one in a matter of milliseconds.

Koko suddenly cried out, and Link's first thought wad that she'd managed to slice a finger off. He spun around. "Oh no!" she said, suddenly distraught. "I'm out of goat butter..."

They sold goat butter in the general store, Link had seen it earlier. He told Koko this, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Koko is a bad daughter who can't do anthing right," she was muttering to herself. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes glowed with a sudden anger. "I'll never be like Mother..."

Great, now he had two upset children to deal with, and his head was starting to spin again. Stupid teleportation. He handed Cottla a single red rupee. "Run to the shop and get some goat butter, would you?"

Cottla instantly cheered up at the distraction of actual responsibility, and ran off in the direction of the general store, leaving Link to sit awkwardly beside Koko as she wailed. She returned quickly, triumph written all over her face when she produced the goat butter. "No change?" Link asked her sceptically, an eyebrow raised, and Cottla shook her head, lips curled into a sly grin.

Koko stilled, raising her head. "Is this... goat butter?" she murmured, and she turned to look at him, voice picking up a gradual crescendo. "Are you sure about this? Really? Thank you so much!"

"It's nothing," Link muttered, rubbing his neck. "...Just as long as you save some for me. If you have any leftovers, that is."

Koko beamed at him.

.

Pikango, the travelling Sheikah artist, had recognised one of the images in the Slate's gallery, and had given him directions. Link was glad, standing on that cliff on the Plateau and looking out over Hyrule, he had come to realise just how vast the land was, and when presented with the twelve images, he had had no idea how anyone could hope to find their locations, lest of all someone who had no literally no clue where anything was at all. Pikango had given him hope, sort of. Maybe he would at least be able to recover a single, solid experience from his memory.

At the moment, all that he had were whispers, flickers of the past that flashed before his eyes and vanished just as quickly as they came. The smell of a plant, a laugh, the flicker of the sunlight in shimmering golden hair, the strange shape of a shadow, a bubble of anger in his stomach. He would grasp at them, and it was like grasping at smoke, and they would slip though his fingers and be lost to the world again.

His dreams were a mixture of vivid images and distant fog, and he always awoke never quite sure of what was real. A single, solid memory - just one - would be very nice indeed.

He had awoken early, and planned to warp to Hateno and make his way to the base of the mountain from there, but first he had to return to the Great Fairy Fountain, now having amassed enough rupies to give to that... thing, which was why he was now clambering up the hill behind the village. A Cucco screeched at him as he passed, and Link glowered at it. He had spent much of yesterday chasing the damn things about the village, and if they'd escaped again he wanted nothing to do with it, this time. The hatred he felt in his chest when he looked at the thrice-damned birds certainly felt old enough to be a distant memory from a hundred years ago; it felt reassuring to know that both his past and his present selves were able to agree on something.

At the top of the hill, standing beside the shrine, he found Cottla, peering behind some rocks, her face strunched up into that frustrated pout.

He approaced her quietly. "What are you doing?"

She turned and looked up, her small frown vanishing when she saw him. "I'm playing hide and seek with Mommy," she explained, excitedly. "Mommy's hiding right now, but I'll find her!"

Link thought about Koko quietly slipping him more leftovers, eyes silently imploring him to say nothing. He didn't know what had happened to their mother, whether she had left them or something worse, but something was telling him that Cottla's game of hide and seek would be unsuccessful. He bit his lip, and then nodded. "Okay," he said. "Just don't go to far from the village. There's monsters up here, sometimes."

"Pah," spat Cottla. "Daddy says there's a scary ghost lady up here, one that cries all the time. Koko's scared of her, but I'm not. I'm looking for Mommy right now though, and she always hides somewhere near the village."

He blinked. What?

"I've gotta go," said Cottla, breezily, and she ran off down the hillside path, giggling. Link watched her go, then shrugged to himself and continued on his journey.

.

 **three**

Link stared at his reflection in the rippling waters that surrounded Kakariko's Goddess statue. He hadn't got access to a mirror, and this was the next best thing.

He had come back to the village on Impa's instructions, having gained not only the memory of the Calamaty's return tinged with the bittersweet taste of failure, but the warm recollection of a childhood friend as well. And on his return, Impa had presented him with _this._

A tunic, blue like the sky, made of a light yet durable material, identical to the one that he had worm in both of his memories. (Actual memories!)

Link squinted at his reflection. It was truly bizarre, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. He was still the Chosen Hero, but he certainly wasn't the same one who had worn this tunic a hundred years ago. Had it been this exact tunic? It must have been, for this one seemed like it had been patched up in places, some of which matched the positioning of various scars that littered his body, scars that he had no recollection of gaining.

He shivered.

"Hey, Link!"

It was Cottla, cluthing a large sack and looking as bubbly as ever. She grinned at him. "Your tunic is nice, but it's a bit ripped."

"You wound me," he retorted. She giggled, and he glanced at the sack. "So, what's in there?"

The girl's eyes gleamed mischievously, and she opened it so that Link could look inside

He did. "Rock salt?" he asked, disbelief clearly evident in his voice. It was indeed rock salt, stacks of it, enough to season every meal Link had eaten in his a hundred and something years of life. "Cottla, where did you get all this?"

"It's a secret!" she said, proudly. "Do you want to buy some? Ten rupees each."

Ten rupees was extortionate for something he could come by so easily, but Link humoured her. As he was handing the gems over, Koko appeared, and instantly Cottla scarpered.

"Is Cottla selling you rock salt?" the older sister asked, clearly exasperated.

Link nodded, and Koko sighed. "She's been doing that for days now, to everyone she sees. I have no idea where she's getting it, either. Father isn't gonna be very happy."

"I don't mind," Link answered, mildly. And then, "What are you cooking tonight?"

Koko's face lit up at the mention of her beloved hobby. "Cado gave Cottla some Cucco eggs in exchange for some rock salt, so I'm making seafood and egg fried rice!"

Link's stomach growled at her description of the food, and he grinned at her. "And do you have all the ingredients you need this time?"

Now it was Koko's turn to giggle. "I do, actually, but you can still have some, if you want. Koko always cooks to much food..."

His grin widened. "I'd love that, thank you." He glanced down at the tunic again. Maybe he'd keep it on, just for now.

.

 **four**

Link stumbled as his feet it the ground of Ta'loh Naeg shrine, doubling over when a sharp wave of nausea hit him like an arrow to the stomach. He gagged onto the platform, for once thankful for his empty stomach. His head swam, darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision and threatening to swallow him up, and he tore the Master Sword from where it hung on his back and stabbed it into the ground before he fell over.

Warping sickness always took a minute or two before it was at least bearable to move on with, and today was no exception. Link forced himself to breath in the crisp morning air, forced himself to feel the wind in his hair and the ground under his feet, forced himself to hold still and wait. His ribs ached and his head throbbed, and he could feel the cool caress of the breeze where his tunic had been torn open. The gash on his shoulder burned, no doubt from the slow acting Lizalthos venom beginning to take its toll, and blood streamed steadily down his chest and back.

After an eternity had passed, he pushed down on the sword and straightened up. The sight of Kakariko Village before him was a welcoming one, even as it slumbered in the wee hours of the morning. The sky was a lesson in colour theory, the Sun painting it with beautiful, bold strokes of oranges and yellows and pinks as it slowly climbed above the horizon, but today he couldn't stick around to watch it rise.

Link leaned on his sword and began to limp painstakingly down the mountain. Every step he took was agony, and he scrunched up his face and grunted at the feeling of his ribs grating together. His head still spun, although he was beginning to suspect that that was due to the blood loss, rather than the teleportation.

As an afterthought, he reached into his pack and tugged out the Hylian Hood, cursing quietly as the movement tore his shoulder and twisted his ribs. Kakariko was as still and empty as the top of Mount Lanayru, save of course for the lone guard at the foot of the stairway to Impa's house, but it never hurt to be careful. He didn't want anyone spotting the dark stains of blood spreading across his Warm Doublet, or the ripped fabric where the Lizalthos' claws had gouged through his skin like it was made of paper.

Finally, he reached the cookpot nestled in the corner of the village and half collapsed to the ground beside it, letting the sword clatter from his grip to the ground. The fire wasn't lit, something he remedied with a quick snap of his fingers. The small blue spark sprung forward, catching the dry wood and quickly spreading, and for a moment Link swore that he heard Urbosa's laugh dancing softly in the morning breeze.

He emptied his water skin into the pot, and when the it came to boil he threw in the the - freshly procured - Lynel hoof and guts. The smell was overpowering, and the faintest wisps of nasuea returned. He pushed them back, and began probing through his pack. Come on, it had to be in here. With a frustrated grunt, he spun the pack upside down and frantically shook its contents onto the ground. A collection of food, clothing and elixir ingredients tumbled everywhere, but Link only had eyes for one thing; the lone Hearty Lizard perched in the centre of the mess.

He grinded the thing up with the flat blade of the Master Sword - perhaps not the correct use of the blade, but what could he do? - and tossed it into the stinking concoction. Now all he could do was wait, wait for the lizard and the monster guts to release their essences into the water.

He collapsed onto his back, and lay listening the clucking of the Cuccos and the bubbling of the pot, eyes closed. The pounding in his head was growing stronger by the second, amd he could feel a steady numbness slowly beginning to spread from the wound in his shoulder. The Lizalthos venom alone wouldn't kill him, it was only meant to weaken their victims, slow down their reation time, confuse them. He imagined that its effects were similar to those of alcohol, although he still couldn't remember if he had ever tried the stuff before. Most monsters, he knew, liked their meat fresh, their blood warm. It had been bloody stupid of him to let himself get cut by one of the Lizalthos, but he'd been too distracted by that Goddess-forsaken Lynel...

And when he'd finally won, he'd half collapsed to the ground, suddenly overwhelmed by the agony of his torn shoulder and crushed ribs, and had known then that there was no way he would make it back to the stables. Normally, he wouldn't have risked warping with the venom in his system, but with the alternative being dying alone and of hypothermia in a cold Hebra snowfield, he had had no other choice. The decision to warp to Kakriko specifically had been an easy one too; if he was going to pass out, he would rather do it around a bunch of world weary Sheikah than in front of a group of terrified Hylians.

If only he hadn't run out of thrice-damned elixir...

A voice - a girl's - came from beside him. "What is that?" it asked, with a mixture of inherent disgust and morbid curiosity to it.

Link pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan. It was Koko, he hadn't heard her approaching. Had he fallen asleep? He glanced at the sky, still coated in the vibrant colours of the sunrise. No, she was just awake ridiculously early, it seemed. And was now pinching her nose closed and staring at him, confusion etched clearly on her young face.

He looked at the pot, relieved to see a thick redness to the water. It was almost done, and when he got it into him it would hopefully be enough to keep him going until Mipha's power returned.

"It's an elixir," he told the girl, who blinked.

"An elixir?" she echoed.

When he looked at Koko, there was two of her, both equally confused. It was his turn to blink, and the two Kokos merged back into one. The numbness continued to spread. "It's like a magic potion," he explained. "You mix together all the ingredients, and it makes a drink that gives you a temporary ability."

She was still holding her nose, brow scrunched up in disgust. "It stinks."

"It does, doesn't it? And it tastes even worse." He had taken to adding a heaping spoonful of ground sugar cane to the mixtures, or downing them in one and following with a mouthful of spicy peppers. "Don't worry though, I'll wash the pot out when I'm finished."

Revulsion seemed to be being slowly overtaken by curiosity, and Koko cautiously leaned forward to examine the bubbling liquid. "What's in it then?" she asked.

"Monster gus, mostly," Link answered, and Koko's face once again twisted into an expression of horror.

"Yuck!"

Yes, Link thought to himself. Yuck, indeed. He leaned forward, trying his best to hide the wince that came with aggravating his cracked ribs, and poked the lizard with his finger. "You see this," he said, as the dead thing jerked. "This is a Hearty Lizard. It's what is gonna give this elixir its power. To make an elixir, you crush up the special ingredient, so that all of its... er, magic juices can escape, and then you boil it with some monster parts. This is a rejuvenation elixir that I'm making. It's got some sort of healing property to it."

Hopefully, he added to himself. He had no idea how long the dead creature had been lurking at the bottom of his pack, and he prayed to the Goddesses that it hadn't been long enough for the juices that gave it its healing properties to dry up completely.

"Does it matter what type of monster bits you use?" asked Koko. There were three of her now, and the village behind her seemed to be doing gentle somersaults. His whole body throbbed.

He took a deep breath, forcing the pain away. "No," he answered, "although I usually try to use the ones that taste the least horrible." Bokolin Horns, for example, had little flavour to them, although they still weren't particularly nice. Unfortunately for him, his sizable collection of Bokoblin Horns, along with the rest of his stuff, was all back with his horse at Snowfield Stable.

He looked down at the pot again. "It's done," he told the girl. His voice was starting to slur, and he hoped she didn't notice. He could no longer feel his entire left arm. Normally, he would filter off the liquid and let it cool, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Link took an empty bottle and scooped up a large wad of the elixir, muttering a silent curse before downing the concoction in one gulp.

It was lumpy. And disgusting. And very hot.

Link fought the urge to splutter as the flavour hit his tongue. It tasted like the smell of rot, like the stench of wet boots, like the horrible shock of biting into a piece of fruit only to find it overtaken with mould and maggots. It tasted just like it looked, which was revolting. At least the scalding heat of it meant that it burnt the inside of his mouth, and thereby left less taste buds that he could actually taste with.

He lowered the bottle. Koko had finally removed her fingers from her nose, and was staring at him in pure horror. "The magic potion part sounds cool and all," she said, "but I never, ever want to drink one of those."

"Let's hope the world never comes to that," said Link, desperately fighting the elixir's apparent desire to come right back up again.

At least it worked quickly. The numbness was already starting to fade, the pain lessen, the headache slipping away. He hadn't realised just how dulled his senses had been until they came back to him with a sharp, startling clarity, and he had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust to the light. He could feel the strange tingling as the skin and flesh of his left shoulder knitted itself back together. The elixir wasn't concentrated enough to heal it completely, but it would stop the bleeding. He sighed in relief and felt his body relax, and a movement that would have once sent a blinking pain flashing through his ribs now only created a dull ache. It was as if the injuries were several weaks old now, instead of just under an hour.

Koko was watching him, lips pursed, brow furrowed, as if she new something was wrong. She was a perceptive kid, but too young to be worrying about him, about anything at all really. "So," he said, shifting, "what are you going to be cooking tonight?"

Her eyes lit up at the metion of her cooking, her face broke into a thoughtful frown. "Oh!" She exclaimed suddenly. "I'll make father's favourite! Tough meat-stuffed pumpkin! It's great for an energy boost. Let's see..." She tailed off, and by now Link new what was coming next.

A small smile grew on his face. "What do you need this time?" he prompted, gently.

She grinned back at him. "The ingredients are raw meat and fortified pumpkin," she said, sheepishly. "I am out of raw meat... I could use a different type of meat, but... without raw meat, I can't recreate Mother's recipe..."

Link nodded, feeling sudden pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his earlier injuries. It was a few hours walk to Rabia Plain from here, where he knew he could hunt some deer for Koko's cooking and still be back in time for her. He could borrow a bow from Cado's house, and return it that evening. He had time to kill, now, he didn't dare warp with the Sheikah Slate more than once a day. And if he had the chance, he could go past the Fairy Fountain and see if there was anything that could be done about his ruined warm doublet...

"Father used to go hunting to make sure we always had raw meat" Koko continued, almost mournfully. "But he's at work right now..." Her eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, suddenly unseeing.

"I'll get your meat, Koko," Link said. "But... only if you promise me you'll spend the day playing with your sister. She's a terror to the village, she needs someone responsible like you to keep an eye on her."

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take away the burden that had been placed on Koko by her mother's absence, couldn't make her happy again. But what he could do was help her carry it, and give her the opportunity to be a child again, even for a few hours. He contemplated speaking to Dorain, then, but the absense of his wife was none of Link's business.

Koko's grin widened. "Thank you so much! I'll-" A sudden realisation seemed to hit her, and all the joy evaporated from her face like steam in the desert. "Link, why were you drinking a healing potion? Are you sick?" Her eyes were wide with horror, she whispered, "You're not dying, are you?"

The sheer, sudden fear in her voice hurt about as much as his ribs did, and he forced himself to smile at her. "I'm fine, Koko, just a few bumps and scrapes. Nothing to worry about." He reached up, and furtively tugged his hood down over his left shoulder. He'd have to go by Claree's later, buy himself another tunic.

The girl's eyes bored into him, eyes almost accusatory, mouth formed into a small pout. "I can tell when someone is lying. Father isn't a very good liar either."

Link sighed. "I'm fine, Koko, honesty. I'd better make a start on getting your meat for you." And he grabbed the hilt of his sword and used it to push himself to his feet.

Koko nodded, but now her smile seemed rather forced.

Link left the village still contemplating why her sudden outburst bothered him so much.

.

 **five**

Koko scrunched up her nose, holding the bottle as far away from her face as she could. "What is this?"

"It's Monster Extract," Link answered. "Some guy called Kilton sold it to me." If 'guy' was the correct term, that was... He wasn't quite sure what to make of the self proclaimed 'Monster Expert', except that he was a good way to get rid of quickly rotting monster parts.

"Sold it to you!?" Koko echoed. "Why would you buy this? It looks so yucky!" She gave the bottle a tiny shake, and the purple liquid inside sloshed about.

It was a good question, one that Link did not have the answer to. He shrugged. "I was curious. Apparently it has special properties when cooked, like those elixirs I showed you. Give it here."

Koko handed him the bottle, looking grateful to see it go. Link unstoppered it, and poured it into the pot, where the eggs, sugar, wheat and butter where alreay mixed and waiting. The addition of Monster Extract turned the whole mixture a strange deep purple, and Koko gagged.

"Are you actually going to eat that?" she asked, barely able to contain her disgust. "You'd better clean the pot out when you're done, or else Koko will have to go somewhere else to make dinner."

Link hadn't decided yet. He gave the empty glass bottle a cautious sniff, and immediately yanked his head back. It smelt of carving aup a rotting Hinox corpse to reach the precious yet disgusting elixir ingredients inside. Normally he'd reuse any glass bottle he came across, but he wasn't so sure about this one. After a moment's pause, he hurled it at the Cucco that lurked ever-present beside the Goddess statue's pond.

The bird glared murder at him, before squawking and flapping away, and Koko experimentally poked the purple gunk with the handle of her wooden spoon.

Link sat back and thought about the painting hanging on Impa's wall.

The whole time, it had been there, right under his nose. The place itself - Blatchery Plain - was barely a day's ride from here. He'd recognised it instantly; a literal graveyard of guardians that he'd ridden past countless times, slept in, even. He'd stood, looking out over the fields and wondering what had happened to all of those machines, and a hundred years ago he had died there.

Or nearly died, he supposed. He was still kicking, yet.

He pulled himself from his thoughts. Koko was still staring at the cooking pot, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It actually... it actually doesn't smell to bad, anymore."

Link nodded. It was true, although perhaps the sweet scent of the sugar and the fattiness of the butter were merely masking the strange smell of the purple stuff. "Where's your sister?" he asked Koko.

And as if on cue, Cottla appeared suddenly, clutching her sack. Her cheeks were flushed red and her hair was tousled, and she was grinning wildly. She glanced briefly at Koko, then looked at Link, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you want to buy some rock salt?" she asked. "Twenty rupees each!"

Later, they spilt the strange cake between them and all eagerly gobbled it up. Link hoped that the stuff wouldn't have any adverse affects; he wasn't sure how he would explain things to Dorian if the man's two girls suddenly sprouted horns, or turned purple, or something.

The next morning, he set out on horseback to Rabia Plain, stomach churning. Koko passed him as he left, face set into a determined frown, and Link again found himself wondering where she went so early every day.

.

 _Link, save yourself! Go!_

 _I'll be fine! Don't worry about me!_

.

 **six**

The graveyard in Kakriko looked out over the rest of Hyrule, over the fields and the mountains and the thrice-damned castle, a horrid blotch of darkness amidst an otherwise picturesque landscape. The stones that sat in memorial of the fallen were plain and unmarked, but the sheer number still spoke volumes. The Sun was shining, yet somehow it was still cold, would probably always feel cold, here.

 _I'm not... I'm not crying... I need to be strong for Mother..._

The wind whispered in the long grass, swaying, swaying. A cucco clucked. The chimes that the Sheikah hung from their wodden archways seems to sing. In the distance, he could hear the clattering and banging of pans and pots.

 _Mother is... sleeping here. She's probably making friends in heaven..._

Link thought of a warm hearth and a quaint cottage; of a soft, gentle voice telling him to add some salt; of laughter amongst comrades over a piping hot stew; of a vow to protect that he couldn't keep; of a little girl desperately trying to bring back her dead parent through every meal she cooked.

 _Father thinks it's best not to tell us she's gone. But I know. That's why I must be strong! I'm supposed to be like a mother for Cottla, now._

His chest ached.

.

The evening Sun was high in the sky, and the Cuccos were chirping as the fire crackled.

"...and then," Link said, "just when I thought that I would never get to the bokoblin on time, I saw a beehive in the tree beside it! And so do you know what I did next?"

Cottla's eyes were alight with their usual, childish joy. "What did you do next?" she asked, giggling.

"I drew an arrow and fired it and whoooshhhh," - he waved his hands about, imitating the arrow as it arched through the air - "it hit the beehive and knocked it straight from the branch, and I don't know if you've ever disturbed a beehive before, but it doesn't make the bees very happy, only this time instead of attacking me they went for the bokoblin, and it dropped its bat and ran away screaming."

Cottla laughed. "Yay! Supid bokoblin!" A pause. "Were the people alright?"

Link nodded. "They were fine. Very grateful. And they gave me some dinner, which was nice. Not as good as Koko's cooking, though." He glanced at the older girl, who didn't seem to be listening to him. She was frowning, eyes distant as she absently stirred the stewing apples in the pot before her. Link wanted to reach out to her, try to prompt her to join their conversation, but so far his efforts had been futile.

"Koko is the best cook in the world!" exclaimed Cottla. "Next to Mommy, of course."

Link nodded, forcing himself to smile at her. "Koko is an amazing cook, and she's gonna keep getting better and better. Do you like cooking, Cottla?"

The child scrunched her face and shook her head. "No, it takes too long. I'd much rather explore, or play, or... Oh! I forgot! I'll be back in a minute!" And she ran off, still giggling.

Strange kid.

Link turned, and watched Koko cook for a while, watched the crease in her brow and the slump of her shoulders, and thought about how it had felt to die. The rain, the mud, the cold, the flashing red light of the guardian's laser as it aimed directly at his heart. He remembered the relief he had felt, knowing that at least if he died then perhaps Princess Zelda would live. He had been ready to die for her then, and he was once again ready to do so now, although hopefully it wouldn't come to that. For Hyrule's sake, more than for his own.

Impa's eyes had been hard with understanding, when he had approached her that morning to tell her why he had returned to Kakriko. Someone had to know where he planned on going once he had left this place, so that if he failed - again - then at least Hyrule had been warned. If he fell, then maybe they could last it out until another Hero appeared. Maybe.

 _If I don't come back..._ he had begun, solemnly, and Impa had shushed him.

 _You worry about yourself first, boy, and the Princess, of course. Leave the rest of it to me. Got it?_

The fire crackled. The Cuccos chirped. The metal charms that hung around the village sang in the wind. The shadows grew. Suddenly, he found himself speaking. "What was your mother like, Koko?"

The girl looked up at him, eyes watering, and she froze. Link waited.

"She..." Koko stuttered, then took a deep breath. "She was the best cook in the world! And she was always smiling, and singing! When Koko had a fever, Mother would always cook this just for me, and it always made me feel better..." She bit her lip. "I miss her very much."

Link nodded sagely, thinking of the gentle but firm voice and the soft brown eyes he sometimes saw in his head. "She sounds amazing," he murmured. "I'm sure she'd be very proud of you for being such a good big sister." And then, "I suppose that you're keeping her alive, in a way. By cooking all the food she used to make, that is."

Koko nodded, not looking at him, and they fell back into silence.

"More rock salt," Cottla said, when she returned. "Fifty rupees."

Link laughed, and obligingly reached for his rupee pouch.

When she was finished, Koko handed him a plate, stacked high with perfectly baked apples glistening with golden honey. He grinned and thanked her, and Koko smiled softly back. "I was able to re-create Mother's dish," she whispered, careful to keep Cottla from hearing. "I... I feel better now. Thank you."

Link nodded, and eagerly took the plate. It truly looked delicious, and it smelled amazing too.

He froze. That smell...

It was raining - no, absolutely lashing down - water pelting the canopy of leaves above his head and splashing up to splatter his clothes. The apples simmered in the pot, and Link watched them while the princess sat, hugging her knees to her chest, with a forlorn expression marring her face-

He was snapped abruptly from his memory by a sudden shout. It was Cado, one of the guards, and he was hurrying towards them. Link jumped to his feet, eyes darting about, looking for anything that could be wrong. "Is everything alright?" he asked, throat dry.

"You'd better come with me, Link," said Cado when he reached them, clearly agitated."No, no, Koko, your father's fine," he added, upon seeing the young girl's suddenly distressed expression. "It's nothing for you to worry about. Link just needs to go and see Lady Impa for a moment, alright?"

Link glanced at the girl apologetically, but she wasn't looking at him, instead staring into the fire under the cooking pot. He hurried after Cado, and when they reached Impa's house he was greeted by the sight of Paya knelt on the ground, clearly distraught.

"I swear I only took my eyes off it for a second!" the girl choked out, between sobs. "What should I... What should I do?"

He knelt down beside her, jaw clenched. "What is it?"

"The Sheikah heirloom... The heirloom has been stolen! And just when I had finally discovered the heriloom's secret..."

And for the first time, Link noticed how dark the room was without the ever-present glowing orb, and how small and sad its pedestal looked, empty except for a rather worn cushion...

.

A hundred years ago, the Princess's appointed knight sat in the shelter offered by the mouth of a ginormous stone dragon and hummed to himself, one eye on the stewing pot before him and the other on the surrounding forest. His sword lay on the ground beside him, within arm's reach as always, unsheathed, its blade glistening in the firelight. The knife in his hands moved on its own accord; smooth, practiced motions as his wrist flicked and turned, swiftly removing the apple's flesh from its skin. From there, it sliced the apple up into evenly thinned slices, and his hand deposited them into a bowl. The skins would do for a snack later, when he would no doubt find himself wearily watching the shadows through the night.

It was positively lashing down with rain, but then again, when was it not in Faron Woods? Link sat, listening to the sound of the rain splashing against the ground and the sizzling of ths fish in the pot, and the occasional reassuring noise that came from behind him, letting him know that the Princess was still there, still safe.

He finished the last apple, and instead moved on to the few wild carrots he'd found earlier, this time slicing them up and dumping them into the pot.

There was a sudden flash of lightening, followed about half a minute later by a furious drumroll of thunder. The rain continued to lash relentlessly, the occasional drop even splashing into where he sat, back against the wall of the ancient ruins. Perhaps it was the Goddesses weeping, although Link privately thought that they were not that ones who deserved the chance to cry. He was glad to be away from the spring itself, along with that statue of Hylia, face blank, lips curled up in a delicate smile. He'd stared at it for long enough already today, and had eventually had to turn away from it, before he found himself doing something stupid and blasphemous, although even with his back to it, he had still felt its gaze on him, watching him with its dead eyes and stone smile...

He shook himself, and carefully put those thoughts away. All would be lost if even the Chosen Hero found himself loosing faith in the Goddesses, he thought wryly to himself as he finished another carrot. His stomach growled, and he popped a slice of apple skin into his mouth, enjoying the sweet, crisp taste of the juice as it saturated his mouth.

The snapping of a twig behind him alerted him to the return of the Princess, now bundled up in a thick fur cloak. Her hair was still damp, and it hung limply around her face. Her cheeks were flushed and blotchy, and her eyes were rimmed red.

She had been crying. The realisation tugged in his chest like the plucking of a harp string, and he hurriedly averted his gaze, hoping to the Goddesses that she hadn't noticed him notice, even though he knew she had. Wordlessly, she sat down across from him, tugging the cloak around her frame. The massive thing dwarved her, making her seem small and fragile, like a lost child wrapped in their parent's clothes. He returned his attention to their dinner, removing the pot from the fire and dividing the fish broth out between the two wooden bowls in front of him. The rain continued to fall.

Link cleared his throat, and when she looked up at him he handed her the bowl. She took it, without even a word of thanks, and returned to her pensive staring. The silence was deafening, almost. Never before had he known her to be so quiet; she was always talking out loud to herself, going over a new theory or plan, or telling him about some piece of research he had - predictably - never heard about, much to her outrage. Even when she was angry - whether with him or with her father or with life in general - she would rant continuously, although those days had, thank the Goddesses, slowly faded into the past. She even read aloud, muttering along with the words as she ingested them at a million miles an hour.

He waited, and when she still didn't say anything, he himself spoke. "Careful," he murmured, "it's very hot."

If someone had told him, a year or so ago, that he would one day be the one coaxing Princess Zelda into speaking, he would have laughed in their face.

She nodded, and then took a small spoonful of the broth and gently sipped at it. At least she was eating, he supposed.

He set his own piping hot bowl down and set about rinsing out the pot, sloshing about some water to remove the last dregs of their dinner, before filling it again, now also dumping in the sliced apples. He dug about in his bag, looking for the small container or ground cane sugar.

"Aren't you going to eat your own dinner?" Princess Zelda asked, voice barely audible over the rain. Somewhere in the distance, the lightening flashed again, and the din of thunder that followed seemed slightly closer.

He found the sugar, stuffed into one of the smaller pouches on his saddlebags, taking a large pinch and scattering it into the pot. "I am," he answered, "I'm just getting our dessert started first."

"Dessert?" she echoed. He could hear a faint hint of emotion in her voice now, perhaps disbelief, or confusion. It didn't matter though, as long as she was talking.

He picked up his own bowl of dinner and blew heavily on it before digging in. "Stewed apples," he explained. "And honey. It's a nice pick-me-up. Probably all the sugar."

The Princess nodded, taking another spoonful of the stew. Link picked up the wooden spoon in his free hand and gave the apples a gentle mix.

The rain fell. "Do you like to cook?" the Princess asked, quietly.

"Yes," he answered, and he could have left it at that, would normally have left it that, only his Princess was staring vacantly into the fire, shoulders slumped forwards, damp hair clinging to her scalp, and he felt the sudden, aching need to fill the silences that she was leaving.

So he did, and the words poured out of him.

"My mother taught me to cook," he told her. "It started when I was really young, and she'd let me pour bowls of her ingredients into the cooking pot. When I was old enough to hold a knife she had me doing all the grunt work, and then I started memorising all her recipies. On Sundays, we'd bake a loaf bread, and when it was Summer my sister and I would go out and pick berries, and then we'd make jam..." He breathed in deeply, then softly murmured, "I suppose I've always loved cooking, and it is nice to be self sufficient."

He felt Zelda's eyes on him, and he purposefully avoided meeting her gaze, instead adding another generous pinch of sugar to the pot. They both finished their dinner in silence, and then Link rinsed out the bowls and filled them with the stewed apples. He reached into his pack and dug out a jar of honey, collected and replenished through many trips through Hyrule Field. The sweet, golden stuff made a nice touch drizzled across the top of the apples. He handed the bowl back to the Princess.

The dinner smelt like his childhood, of swimming in Zora's Domain, of skimming stones across the water, of evenings spent listening to his father's stories, and he breathed it in eagerly. There was nothing quite like honeyed apples. He lifted his gaze and watched as Zelda took her first mouthful of the dish-

-and found himself suddenly transfixed by the expression on her face, the softness of her cheeks, her lips around the spoon, the way her eyes closed in bliss, the reflection of the firelight in the droplets of water trapped in her hair.

She looked more like a goddess in that moment, he thought - caught on unawares, as she sat in an old cloak in the dirt - than she ever had wearing that thrice-damned thin white dress and the golden jewellery that clamped around her kneck and wrists like iron shackles.

"Mmmm," she murmured slowly, as if savouring every syllable. "That's gorgeous."

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to all of those fancy meals you have in the castle," he gruffly, although a spark of pride had risen in his chest. Her eyes opened then, and she met his gaze, and although Link had just been caught staring at her he found that he honestly couldn't care.

"No," Zelda agreed, staring back at him. "It's better."

And then the enchantment was somehow broken. They both returned to their food, although now the tension was somewhat dispelled. "You were certainly right," Zelda mumured, stirring her dessert around with her spoon. "This does seem to have some sort of rejuvenating effect." She frowned a little. "Although I wouldn't say it was that sugary."

Link almost spluttered. "Not that sugary?" he echoed. "I put extra in for you! And there's honey in it as well! In the name of the Goddesses, this is probably the sweetest thing I've ever eaten in my life."

Zelda was staring at him in shock, and then she burst into a sudden fit of giggles. "You would really hate our 'fancy castle food' then, as you call it," she told him. "Cheesecake, meringue, sticky toffee pudding, chocolate fudge cake..." She grinned, and her eyes sparkled prettily in the firelight. "Why, this could probably be served as a starter."

"You're exaggerating," he insisted. "I'm sure I could get used to fancy castle food in no time." He froze, suddenly realising the implication behind his words, and Zelda caught his gaze again. Her eyes really were enchanting. Link thought he could probably sit here and stare into them forever, his duty and the Calamity and everything else be damned. He tore his own gaze away.

They both paused, letting his words fade into the sound of the storm raging around them. The fire crackled, and Link cast another log onto it, grateful he'd had the foresight earlier to gather some dry wood. Somewhere nearby, the thunder crashed loudly.

"I'd like to learn to cook, one day," Zelda said, suddenly.

Link answered her before he could properly think it through. Words tumbled from his mouth once again, not coming from his brain but from somewhere else, somewhere deep in his chest. "I'd happily teach you, if you like..." He paused. "You know," he added, weakly. "After."

"After," Princess Zelda repeated, and somehow on her lips it sounded more like a prayer. And then she smiled, softly. "I'd like that."

.

Dorian and Link walked back to the village together. The Sheikah was clearly lost in his thoughts, eyes drilling holes in the dirt beneath their feet. Link's own heart felt heavy, tired. To think that the Yiga clan could do something so monstrous to an innocent woman, one who had nothing to do with him or the Princess or even them themselves. It was hard, then, not to think of Koko and her sad eyes, of Cottla and her game of hide and seek that she would never win. Anger, red hot and bubbling like the lava of Death Mountain boiled within him, and he clenched his jaw and tightened his fists in an effort to keep it from spilling out.

Beside him, Dorian was silent, no doubt contemplating his own decisions. Link couldn't imagine the guilt that the man must have been feeling. To loose someone you love to the vengeance of your own enemies, it was unthinkable. If that had been him, and those bastards had hurt the Princess...

He shook himself and swallowed, eyes darting to the castle that lurked ever-present in the distance. Soon, he thought quietly, a hard set to his stomach.

A sudden cry tore his gaze away from te horizon, and his head darted around. "Daddyyyy!" It was Cottla, hurtling up the path towards them at the speed of an arrow.

Dorian's eyes widened, and he slammed to a halt just as the speeding child barrelled straight into him. "Cottla, what in the Goddess' name are you doing up now?"

Cottla's face was pressed against her father's stomach, and when she spoke her voice was muffled by his clothes. "I woke up, n' Koko said you hadn't come home yet, n' so I came to look for you.

Dorian's eyes were clouded over, face drawn and sad. Guilt. "I see," he said, slowly. " And where is your sister now?"

"Father!" Koko appeared, cheeks flushed, face pale, hair a bedraggled mess. "I'm sorry, I know I was supposed to watch her, but... but you didn't come home and I thought-" Her voice wobbled, and she inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, Father. Koko is a bad, bad sister."

Cottla leaned back to look at her father, but kept her arms around his waist. She grinned smugly. "Koko was scared," the younger girl said. "She thought the crying woman had got you, but I told her that you're far too good at fighting to be scared of some stupid ghostie."

Link looked at Koko, really looked at her. The girl stood awkwardly, biting her lip as if to hold the truth back from spilling out. Her eyes were wide and watery, sparkling as they caught the reflection of the moon, and her shoulders were slumped forward.

Beside him, Dorian sighed and gently knelt to the ground. With one arm, he enveloped Cottla in an embrace, wrapping a large hand around her and pulling her close. The other arm, he held out towards Koko. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Koko," he said, wearily. "I shouldn't have left you alone for so long. Thank you for taking such good care of your sister." He sighed, and threaded his fingers absently into Cottla's hair. "Your sister is right, I'm never going to leave you. Not even if a hundred wailing ghost-women come for me."

In the distance, Link could hear the jangling of the chimes and bells as they swung in the wind. He held his breath.

"Not like Mother?" Koko whispered.

"Never," murmured Dorian. "I promise."

And Koko ran forward and threw herself into her father's embrace.

Watching the reunion from a distance, hearing the relieved sobbing of the older girl as her father held her - his own tears falling silently from his eyes had he buried his face in his daughters' hair - Link knew then this was not a time for goodbyes. He turned his back and, unnoticed, quietly slipped away, heading towards Sahasra Slope and beyond that, Hyrule Field. His destination loomed on the horizon, red-purple shadows spilling from it and staining the night sky like blood.

.

 **seven**

The next time Link returned to Kakariko Village, he was not alone.

He left the Princess with her old friend, and had barely passed back out of the archway leading to Impa's house when he found himself being run down by an excited child, who was barreling towards him at the speed of a ferocious Lynel. It was Koko, her face split into a massive grin and her eyes alive with a dancing, sparkling joy. Link hardly had any time to react before she was on him, throwing her arms around his waist and pulling him into a bear-like hug. He placed a hand on her shoulder and patted her head, and caught Dorian's appreciative nod from where the man stood, holding his usual spot as a guard at the base of the staircase.

"I've made a decision!" the girl blurted excitedly, when she'd finally released him. She seemed barely able to contain her glee, bouncing up and down on the spot as if doing some bizzare dance.

Link smiled at her, and she continued.

"I want to become a chef when I grow up!" she proclaimed, volume increasing with every word. "That way, I can make everyone happy with yummy food! This whole time, I have been relying on Mother's recipies. But from now on, I'll come up with my own recipies too!"

She paused, looking up at Link as if searching for his approval. "I'm sure you're gonna be the best chef in all of Hyrule," he said, warmly. "In fact, I think you'll be a chef fit for the Goddesses themselves. But you'll have to promise me one thing..."

"What?" asked Koko, giddy with excitement.

"You'll have to promise me," said Link, "that you'll let me try all of your new recipies first, that you'll teach my how to make them, and that you won't forget about lil' old me when you're all rich and famous."

And Koko giggled.

Later, Zelda's shoulder lightly brushed his own as they sat around the fire. Cottla was cuddled in her father's lap, and Impa and Paya had both brought stools from the nearby decked area. Koko beamed as she served them all their dinner; a steaming hot broth that seemed to contain all manner of different ingredients, yet still smelt heavenly. She had found and bought the ingredients all by herself, she assured them, except of course for the rock salt that Cottla had provided; free of charge, this time. Link inhaled the scent of the food deeply, grinning back at Koko before diving into his meal with a whole-hearted enthusiasm.

It was warm.


End file.
